


Show Me The Way

by Nadia_Hernandez



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Advice, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Conversations, F/F, Female Friendship, Friendship, Lesbian Character, Lost Love, Love, Relationship Advice, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadia_Hernandez/pseuds/Nadia_Hernandez
Summary: Mel feels lost since Harry fell into the abyss. It's a good thing she has a sister to show her the way.





	Show Me The Way

Macy has not responded well since Harry fell into the Abyss. Things just have not seemed real, somehow. She knows that it is, of course. It is eminently empirically obvious that the world still turns, that the sun rises and sets, that she has to eat and drink and try to sleep. She goes to the lab, still, and pecks listlessly at data streams that stopped making sense a long time ago. Things are real, maybe, but that doesn’t mean she’s in the headspace to really give a damn about them.

Home is weird, too. Maggie has called for him a few times, forgetting that he is not there, and winced when he does not appear. Mel throws herself into the Book with gusto, turns pages fast enough to cut her fingertips, talks and gesticulates hyper-animatedly to articulate increasingly unlikely and arcane rescue scenarios. Macy, on the other hand, has not even said his name. She doesn’t say much anymore.

Mel corners her one evening while she is washing the dinner dishes, submerged to the elbows in hot, soapy water. Christmas decorations still glitter at the edges of her vision even though Christmas was days ago. A forlorn tree stands in the corner. Not a real one, that would be a fire hazard, but still a lingering testament to open wounds and open floors.

Mel sort of half sits and half leans on the counter, beside the sink. “This has got to stop, Macy.”

“I’ve got to wash the dishes unless you want ants. Cause that’s how you get ants.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she says and then draws a deep breath. This must mean, Macy reflects, that what she is about to say is either difficult for her or long winded. It is amazing how fast she has come to know, and how well she has come to love, these sisters of the covenant of blood and water of the womb together. Families forged in fire are often the strongest, though. 

Mel finally speaks. “Ever since we lost Harry you’ve been moping around this place like a zombie. It sucks, I know. It’s killing Mags and me too--that’s why I’ve got my nose in that book all day--and we’re gonna do everything we can to get him back but… we don’t wanna lose you, too.”

“How do you mean lose me?”

“You barely eat or drink and you never talk much anymore… I mean, you’ll answer but you don’t start conversations or anything. You’re just like a shell and it’s scaring the hell out of us, sweetie.”

“I guess I’m just trying to figure things out,” she says. “Just like you are with the Book and Maggie is with whatever occult version of Google she’s latched onto this week.”

“I understand, totally,” Mel says. “And any response to tragedy is valid--helpful, angry, whatever. It’s all valid. But i just want you to process this in a healthy way.”

“What makes you think that the way I’m processing isn’t healthy?” Macy asks. “And as for healthiness… shouldn’t you be worried about Galvin? He saw some crazy stuff and then sort of just, y’know… babbled to a giant tequila worm that only he could see for an hour. I don’t feel like that’s super healthy.”

“It’s not,” Mel agrees, “but his grand-mere has him, now. Madame Dupres can make him some yummy pen patat and tell him everything he needs to know, teach him how to protect himself. She’s got him… and I’ve got you. My concern is to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you, though?” Before Macy can contradict her, Mel blunders forward. It’s one of her special attacks--up, right and press the A button--and works, more often than it does not, on charm, willpower and the sheer force of her personality. “I think that you’re not because you left things unsaid--things that you really, probably needed to say. And do you why I think that?”

 

“No, but I have a strong inkling that you’re gonna tell me.”

“I think that because I have things that I left unsaid--things that I can’t ever say. I never met the woman that I love--or she never met me. It’s kinda convoluted. But the point is that I can never tell Niko that one night in Montoni’s Pizza she delivered an impassioned speech about sentencing minimums with spinach stuck between her front teeth and that it’s the hardest I ever laughed in my life. I can never tell her that even though she didn’t need those dumb-ass glasses that I thought they were really hot in a librarian sort of way. I probably told her a hundred times how much she meant to be, how much I loved her, but I can never tell her again and--this is the part that motherfuck sucks--she will never know that I told her cause, well… I didn’t. I guess.”

Macy frowned. “Damn. We do live a confusing life, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do.” She drew a deep breath. “So when we pull Harry out of the pit--and we’re gonna pull him out of the pit if we have to rearrange the universe to do it, not like we haven’t done that shit before--you need to tell him before it’s too late. Or early. Or never was at all. It’s like I said--”

“Convoluted,” Macy finished for her.

“Exactly.” She leaned and, on impulse, threw her arms around her sister, drew her close and held her tight. Macy, who had not grown up in an emotionally demonstrative household with a sister and mom who loved and fought with equal vigor, stiffened for a moment but swiftly melted into the embrace. Mel was warm, soft and her hair smelled of coconut scented shampoo and mango conditioner.

She was right, too. Macy knew this and it frustrated her more than she could easily say. It was gonna get better, though. She would tell Harry how she felt when they saved him, however they did it. She would tell him that their long conversations over tea and lingering glances down the hallway meant something to her. She owed it to him, to herself, and to a sweet, strong-willed little sister willing to show her the way.


End file.
